The Blue Varient
by James Church
Summary: X-over with Stephen King's "Captain Trips" flu from "The Stand", meeting the scientists from the "Wildfire Lab" of "The Andromeda Strain", attempting to find a cure.  Elements from both the book and movie versions of the novels are used. Setting: 1990
1. Chapter 1

THE FIRE-FIGHTERS-

Dr. Jeremy Stone had been retired from UC-Berkeley for almost seven years, but he had remained the Head of the Crises Team at the "Wildfire" Lab. His tenure there though was due to expire in six months. There had been only one other "biological crises" since the "Andromeda Strain"…an outbreak of the 1918 Spanish flu in a mining town in Alaska in 1977, when someone had disinterred a body frozen in the tundra since the pandemic and the thawed flesh had re-infected the entire town with a variant of the influenza virus yet unseen. In fact, most of the "Wildfire" funding had been cut after that and the facility was in low "standby" mode for over a decade.

So when the Army officer and two aides arrived at his home that night in June, Stone was completely taken aback and twice asked "Are you sure?" to their bland, innocuous statement that "There's a fire, sir." The officer confirmed it and Stone quickly grabbed his coat and made for the door. There was small consolation that this time, unlike the incident in 1970 and 1977, his wife was not there to demand what was happening and when he would be back. She had died of breast cancer eight years earlier.

In the sedan, the liaison officer handed Stone a file. Across it was labeled "Project: Blue—Top Secret". Stone broke the seal and began reading the briefing. Over the years, he had kept abreast of the biological warfare experiments the United States was conducting, almost all in blatant violation of the treaty against them signed with the Soviets. (A treaty influenced on the American side, in some part by the events of "Andromeda").

Stone had developed the same cynical loathing that Ruth Leavitt had for the military and for scientists who aided it in developing biological weapons. After meeting General Starkey in 1987, that cynicism had only grown. The man in charge of "Project: Blue" in the Mohave was an utterly contemptible militarist whose "build me a better bug to destroy the world before the Rooskies build it" attitude mirrored the worst of Leslie Groves and Curtis LeMay. Reading the "Blue" file only reinforced that view in Stone's mind.

The virus itself was simple, but elegant. Basically it had incorporated the standard Asian influenza strains with the newly-discovered HIV strains. "Blue" was airborne and acted upon the infected almost exactly as normal flu strain would. Unfortunately for the victim, the virus was capable of shifting ever so slightly when in the presence of the natural antigens that the body would produce to fight it off. Every time the body produced an antigen, "Blue" would change and continue the disease process. Eventually the virus dominated, lungs drowned in their own mucous and the victim died of both exhaustion and asphyxiation. The chances of immunity were also nearly non-existent. Once released it was the perfect "Doomsday" weapon…for all sides.

The car arrived at the airport and Stone boarded a Gulfstream jet bound for southern Nevada and "Wildfire". He asked for an update on the other team members. The Army officer checked his notebook. "Dr. Hall is on-route from Los Angeles, already in the air," he flipped a page, "Dr. Dutton's replacement, Dr. Newberry is being picked up now from a seminar at Boston University. " He flipped a second and frowned. "Dr. Leavitt is refusing to accompany the detachment until she hears from you personally, Dr. Stone." Jeremy Stone smiled slightly. "Get her on the radio-phone," he said, "I'll talk to her." Seven minutes later, Ruth Leavitt's voice came over Stone's hand-set. "Who is this now?" came a gruff, exasperated voice.

"Ruth, it's Stone." A short sigh. "Dammit, Jeremy…this better be important. I have potential gene therapy for diabetes and I'm not going to leave it behind to go off to that goddamn hole in the ground and …" The Army officer made a worried face to Stone. "Ruth, this line isn't completely secure, so…" "I don't give a damn if your line is 'secure', Stone," she continued, her voice rising, "I've got important work here." Stone gave her a moment to cool down then began, "Ruth…it's bad this time." "It's _always_ bad _this_ time, Jeremy." "No, Ruth….worse than 'Andromeda'." The military man made his face again, but Stone waved him off. "No shit?" Leavitt asked, obviously incredulous. "No shit," Stone replied. Another few seconds of silence passed. "Okay, fine," she said slowly, "But I'm getting way too old to keep playing this game." There was a pause. "Tell your goons I'm coming quietly." Stone smiled. "All right, Ruth, I'll see you in a few hours." And he clicked off the handset.

Unfamiliar with Marsha Newberry, Stone read her biographical file after finishing the updates on "Blue" and how it had "breached containment." Originally from New Orleans, she was a Harvard PhD in medicine with a second doctorate in virology from Princeton. Primarily her focus had been on hemorrhagic fever virii in eastern Africa and had done the first work on the Hanta strain in the United States. A tenured professor at Harvard now, she also advised the US Army Infectious Disease unit as well as the CDC. She was thirty-six and unmarried. A security notice had been placed in her file in 1987 that stated that she was "likely a lesbian." Stone lightly laughed at that, given he knew Ruth Leavitt was homosexual and they had never bothered to note it in her file or worried about her being a "security risk" at "Wildfire.".

An hour and a half later, the Gulfstream touched down in the bare bones airfield, a two mile drive to the entrance to "Wildfire". Stone boarded a Humvee driven by a young man, obviously military, wearing a golf shirt and khaki pants. He said nothing to Stone and they drove silently across the desert landscape.

In the years since "Andromeda" the "cover story" for the above ground portion of the "Wildfire" Laboratory facilities had changed. Originally it was to appear as some "desert agricultural experimentation facility", complete with working alfalfa fields and a tour that any interested visitor could take. A very boring tour that quickly ended whatever slight curiosity they might have had upon discovering the place. Since 1979 though, a new story had been created, one that was guaranteed to keep out all but the most curious, who then themselves would fall under suspicion for being foreign agents, that of a radioactive and toxic waste dump.

As they went onto the turn off the main road, Stone saw the first signs. It indicated the "EnviroCore Hazardous Waste Facility", an innocuous enough sign seemingly of some private waste disposal company. As the Humvee got to the gate surrounding the ground level facility, the scene changed though. Stacks and stacks of lead-encased barrels and low mounds of dirt were seen behind the razor-wire. The old "agricultural station" shack had been replaced with a brooding, pillbox-shaped "main office". Yellow-and-black radiation warning symbols were all over the facility grounds, toxic waste symbols, and signs stating menacingly "Upon ANY exposure, quickly go to the closest decontamination shower." Anyone arriving at the place would get the impression they would be both irradiated and covered in poisonous sludge at any moment…which is exactly what they wanted them to think. Stone knew though…the barrels were completely empty as were the dirt mounds.

The Hummer pulled into the gate and parked beside the "main office." Stone got out and walked up to the door, a decontamination shower was outside it. On a hunch, he pulled the chain and disinfectant-smelling blue water came out of it, just as if it was real. He entered the office. There were three doors leading out of it. Two said "Employees Only", one said "Mr. Jenson's Office." A female secretary in a green coverall was behind the desk, typing onto a computer. The name-plate on the desk said "Mindy Solomon". She looked over and smiled pleasantly. "Yes, can I help you?" Stone smiled back and said his memorized line. "I'm interested in dioxin removal." "Mindy" responded almost robotically, "How many gallons?" "Sixty-four. Imperial." "Any day best for pick-up?" "Only Tuesdays never Fridays," Stone gave the last counter-phrase. "Mindy" nodded and buzzed him through into the "Jensen" room.

The next room was another larger office; it looked like any small businessman's. There were papers strewn on the desk, a family photo of a man, his wife, and teenage son. Leather chair, ashtray, ledgers on a shelf. Stone made a cursory glance at it and then walked over to another door. It was a lavatory, rather large. Reaching under the sink, Jeremy Stone found a rocker switch and flipped it. The entire floor sank beneath him and he watched the bathroom, fixtures, toilet and all rise above him as the floor carried him down an obvious elevator shaft some thirty feet deep.

The hydraulic floor stopped on a hallway and Stone stepped off. He pressed a button on the wall and the floor began to slide back up to the false bathroom. As he walked forward, he saw the familiar handprint scanner had been replaced (as he had been updated it would be two years ago) and a single computer screen was against the left-hand wall beside a sliding metal door. He stood before it. A soft red light hit his right eye…a retina scanner. A red light above the sliding door turned green and the door slid open. He walked into the "Wildfire" Lab's first level.


	2. Chapter 2

In five hours, the rest of the team had been assembled. Mark Hall had arrived first. Now in his fifties, he was still lean and quite young looking, though his hairline had almost fully receded. In the years since "Andromeda", Hall had worked his way up to Chief of Thoracic Surgery at UCLA-Medical and was a surgery professor at the university. He had married in 1975 and immediately been withdrawn as the "Odd Man" with sole ability to disarm the nuclear weapon located on the lowest level of "Wildfire." He divorced in 1985 and would have been put back as the "Odd Man", but the situation with the self-destruct option had changed as well.

The "small" (less than 20 kilotons) weapon had survived despite many controversies. First was the initial disaster that it almost caused when "Andromeda" had breached containment in 1970. If it had detonated, the matter-energy virus would have had a vast growth medium and would have mutated into a million strains, impossible to stop. That had been averted by Hall's heroic actions. Second was when Carter became President and the idea of maintaining a nuclear weapon in hands outside the President's became anathema to some of his advisors. Jeremy Stone had had to make a lot of visits to DC to try to keep it in the facility.

In the end, he had to compromise. No longer would the weapon automatically trigger itself in the event of a containment breach, with only the "Odd Man" (a specifically chosen bachelor member of the team, determined best psychologically for self-destruct scenarios) able to stop the countdown to detonation. Now, it had to be purposefully detonated by any two members of the "Wildfire" Crises Team of four. Each were issued a detonator key and had to wear it at all times. Stone had already gotten his and he passed out the others as Newberry and Leavitt arrived in the hours after Hall. The "two man decision" mimicked the launch authorization in US missile silos and had, to a degree, satisfied the critics of the "Wildfire bomb."

They had all read the files on "Blue" on their flights to the lab, but Stone began reviewing the current situation.

"What we know so far is this," he began, "There was a breach at 'Blue Base' and a guard named Charles Campion fled before lock-down with his wife and child. While not effected somehow by the strain that killed the lab personnel immediately, Campion and his family were exposed to a longer incubating version." He noticed Ruth Leavitt shaking her head in disgust. He went on, ignoring her. "Campion made it across country before crashing in a small town called Arnette, in Texas. He died there, his wife and child dead some hours or even a day earlier. Naturally the entire town has now been exposed. Blue Special Unit has sealed off the town and a cover story about anthrax has been released." Leavitt let out a sardonic laugh.

Hall piped up first. "Haven't we already lost any control? First time they stopped for a burger, they'd infect somebody…well before they hit Texas." Stone shrugged. "Apparently, they didn't. The report on the vehicle says there were empty snack packages and drink cans in it. And apparently, they didn't make any rest-stops in public places….Denninger theorizes that Campion was probably paranoid, fearful if he was spotted, he'd get caught by 'Blue' or the Army."

Newberry asked, "Who's Denninger?" "Topside team leader at the CDC. They'll aid with research there and at the facility in Stovington, Vermont…but the main work will be done here at 'Wildfire.' He's in Atlanta now, with the Arnette people who had direct contact with Campion." She continued. "What's their status?" "First signs of infection are present in three, one possible signs, another …uh…" He reached for a fax. "Redmon, Stuart R. No signs at all."

"What are we going to have to work with?" Leavitt asked. Stone went over to the video display and activated it. There were three corpses being lowered down a containment elevator to the laboratories on Level Five. One was a male in his twenties, Army uniform, blotches covering his face, swelling around the neck only now going down post-mortem. The others were a female in a housecoat and nightgown, same condition, and an toddler already blackening. Dried mucous layered their upper lips; their eyes were open and bloodshot, with dark circles around the adults. Though trained physicians and scientists, the four "Wildfire" Crises team-members all felt nauseous.

Stone recovered first, clicking off the display. "And, uh …uh…of course, we have the virus in Virology and copies of all the notes from the development team." He looked to Hall and Newberry. "Mark, Marsha…I'm going to put you guys on autopsy and pathology." They nodded simultaneously. He looked over at Leavitt. "Ruth, you and I will see what we can learn about 'Blue'." She nodded but added, "This really stinks, Jeremy. I'd like to string Starkey up by his ribbons." Stone looked at her intensely for a moment, then back at the blank video screen and then back and said, "Yeah, so would I."

Team decontamination began, but under new protocols after the Alaska Flu outbreak, it was highly accelerated. No longer were there any "down-times" between treatments and it took less than five hours for the team to go from Level One down to the main research compartments on Level Five. They took six hours to sleep once they had reached that level and awoke for breakfast ready to work less than a day after the "Wildfire" alert had been raised.


	3. Chapter 3

THE FLAMES SPREAD-

Six minutes into their autopsy of Campion and his wife and kids, inside the "glove box" suits, Marsha Newberry backed out of the unit and into the main control room. Mark Hall watched her confused until he saw her vomiting into a waste receptacle. She left, obviously for the restroom, and returned a few minutes later. As she re-entered the suit and returned to the gurney where Hall was cracking open Campion's chest to expose the lungs, he asked simply, "You okay?" She nodded and began to examine the dead man's eyes and ears with a scope. "First autopsy?" he asked. Newbery smiled slightly still examining Campion's left ear.

"No," she answered, "That's the funny thing. I did autopsies on Marbury and Ebola victims in East Africa as part of my field work. " She stood up from her crouch. "Ever seen an Ebola victim, Hall?" He shook his head, but kept working. "They 'bleed out'…every orifice, eyes, rectum, mouth. The internal organs liquefy and the capillary walls break down, blood finds the quickest exit." She paused for a moment to gently palpate Campion's swollen neck. "So why does this bother you?" Hall asked, looking up from the bloody chest cavity. Newberry looked up too and grimaced. "Because I'm a fucking racist, Hall." Mark Hall stared for a moment at a completely stunning answer. "What?"

Newberry continued. "All those people I saw dead from those horrible diseases…were black." She looked to the observation window. "I didn't care about them or how they had blood oozing from their ass and eyes, because they didn't look like anybody I knew. I never had any black friends. I'm from goddamn New Orleans where my father still says 'nigger', in private of course, and my mother still talks about the 'colored woman', who helped raise me. So why should I care about some black guy who's a bloody gob of goo or a black baby dead from a flea bite." She sighed deeply and then returned to her examination of Campion's body. "These people...look like people I know. People I'm friends with. People…like me." Hall barely knew Newberry, so he didn't know what to say. Ultimately he decided to say nothing and quietly finished his work. When she began to work on the little girl's body, Hall said he'd do it and for her to begin prepping the tissue sample slides instead.

The autopsies continued for the next four hours. They checked in with Stone. The virus acted exactly as predicted, like a "suped up" version of the flu, one that the body simply couldn't fight off. From their analysis, it looks like anybody contracting it will be dead in a minimum of seven days, although the Campion child had died within four and his wife a day after that. The tissue samples were sent to Pathology and Hall and Newberry went there after drinking some of the chocolate-tasting "high energy protein nutrient" that was the daily diet for those living on Level Five of "Wildfire" in an emergency.

Meanwhile in Virology, Stone and Leavitt spend the first part of the day re-reading all the notes from the "Project: Blue" Lab, from the initial proposals for "weaponizing influenza" by "The Farm" (the CIA's secret lab/think-tank in Virginia) to the creation of "Blue Base" in the Mohave desert, to the first gene-splicing attempts. Every page had stamped in red across the top "_**Warning! Revelation of **__**any**__** of these contents to non-approved personnel is subject to intense criminal prosecution by the Federal Government**_." Leavitt laughed when she saw that on the first page. "What exactly is _intense_ prosecution? Secret tribunals and they bury you at sea five minutes after the inevitable guilty verdict is reached?" Stone was barely listening to her; he adjusted his chair and flipped a page of notes. "Yes, as a matter of fact," he stated flatly not pausing his reading, "That's exactly what it means." Leavitt smirked. "You're kidding…right?" Stone said nothing and kept reading. Leavitt stopped smirking.

After hearing Hall and Newberry's report, Stone and Leavitt finished the last of the notes. They then started examining electron microscope photos of "Blue" taken at the other lab. They each noted the virus structure was nearly identical to H1N1 influenza and HIV. "They really built themselves a beast, didn't they?" Leavitt said staring at the screen. "Worst of both worlds," Stone added, "The easy transmission of influenza combined with the nearly impossible to self-immunize aspects of immuno-suppression virii. It's AIDS as if the fear-mongers had been right and you could 'catch it just by being around somebody with it.'" Leavitt sniffed. "Jerry Falwell would love it…prove the fat bastard right," she replied.

By the end of eight hours, the team took a mandatory meeting. Stone updated Hall and Newberry on the examination of the virus. Hall asked, "What about using the new HIV 'cocktail' to suppress the virus?" Stone shrugged as he sat, nursing his nutrient drink. "Possibly." Newberry seconded the idea. "It wouldn't relieve the flu symptoms, but it might give the body a chance to knock it down with an antigen before the virus can…regroup, I guess would be a good term, and mutate." "Problem though," Leavitt injected, "Even if a HIV 'cocktail' could hold it, we could never make enough, if the virus spreads into the general population. I've worked with the AIDS community for years and we're just now getting Big Pharma cranking out the HIV suppressors in small doses." Stone countered, "Right now that's not a problem, Ruth. It's contained in Arnette, Atlanta and here at 'Wildfire'." Just as he said that, the video screen in the meeting room buzzed.

Stone went over and pressed the lit button. McMahon, head of the Communications Room, came on the screen. "Doctor Stone? Video call for you, sir, from Dr. Denninger." "Put him through, Captain." An older man in glasses, with thinning hair and a squeaky voice, appeared on the screen. He was obviously on a jet; rows of seats behind him could be seen through the choppy video feed.

"Dr. Stone?" "Yes, Dr. Denninger? What's wrong?" Denninger paused for a moment. "I'm afraid we've lost Atlanta." The entire team at "Wildfire" leaped to their feet and stood beside Stone. "What do you mean?" Denninger paused again. "We have had two confirmed outbreaks in the city; we've left CDC and are taking Redmon to Stovington. General Starkey has confirmed reports in Texarkana and Oklahoma City as well." The group stood stunned for a moment.

Jeremy Stone tried to compose himself. "What's Redmon's condition?" "Perfectly fine, " Denninger responded, "We don't know what to make of it." "No symptoms whatsoever?" "None," the other man continued, "In fact, we've debated deliberately injecting him once we get to Vermont to see if we can make a serum from his anti…" Stone interrupted. "Why not transfer him to 'Wildfire'?" Denninger shook his head, "Orders from the President. As a matter of fact, they've ordered Major Rollins to seal you off. The elevators have been locked down and the people at the facility top-side are being sent home." "WHAT?" Leavitt was the one who yelled. Denninger seemed put-off. "I'm sorry, who are you?" "Your captive prisoner, you idiot!" Stone pushed Ruth aside and tried to resume his conversation with his counterpart.

"Dr. Denninger, what if we need to evacuate?" Denninger shrugged. "You'll have to take that up with General Starkey; the President has given him full authority during the crises." Someone in the cabin came over and said something to Denninger. "I'm sorry; we're about to land in Burlington. I'll contact you later when we get our facility there up and running. Good luck, Dr. Stone." And the screen went black. McMahon came back on. "Dr. Stone, is there anything else you need?" Ruth Leavitt once again stuck her face towards the screen. "Yeah, get that bald bastard Starkey on the phone and tell him I'm going to kick his ass from here to the Pentagon." Stone once again pushed Leavitt aside gently. "Captain, please get in contact with General Starkey…and inform me when you do." "Yes, sir." The display went blank again.

"Jeremy, this is bullshit," Ruth Leavitt yelled. "Calm down, Ruth," Stone replied. "No! I won't 'calm down'," she retorted, "Those idiots have us sealed in here like moths in jar." Stone led her back to her chair; he could see the worried looks on Hall's and Newberry's faces as well. "Look," he began slowly, "The matter of the fact is, we have no reason to leave 'Wildfire' anyway. We've got work to do and if 'Blue' blows into a full-scale pandemic, this could be the safest place for us." It was Newberry's turn to raise an objection. "Stone, what's the long-term supply situation down here?" Jeremy Stone sat back down.

"The lab itself is powered by a self-contained nuclear reactor, very similar to those on ballistic missile subs. Since it's gone to full power, it can run uninterrupted for five months without servicing." He pushed a display button and the video screen showed the reactor just above the nuclear bomb. "Air is purified by scrubbers powered by the reactor. Those will last for as long or longer without replacement. Water is tapped from an aquifer and filtered. Food…Food is only issue." He pressed another button and a spreadsheet popped upon the screen. "'Wildfire' operates in a crises with a full staff. That's one hundred people including us. Normally supplies are brought in by service elevator to Level One, processed and sorted there and then send down the Main Core to the other Levels. If what Denninger said is right, we're on whatever they brought us when the lab was re-activated two days ago." "And how much is that?" Hall asked. "About two weeks, twenty days at the most."

Stone then called Major Kelvin Rollins, the Permanent Staff Director for the Lab on the inter-Level video. He explained the situation, though Rollins has already been notified of the "lock-down" of the Lab. Stone suggested an immediate rationing program. Along with Hall, they ran some numbers on caloric intake and told Rollins how much to dole out to the staff. Each Level Chief would be in charge of their team's rationing; Stone would be in charge on Level Five. Before they finished their conversation, Rollins asked Stone a question. "Doctor, remember how you told me to always keep you informed of anything 'unusual' among that staff?" "Yes," was Stone's reply. "Odd thing," Rollins began, "Mendez, the aide to Captain McMahon. He told me he had had this weird dream last night…said it was very vivid." "What kind of dream?" "Something about some 'dark man' telling him to come to Las Vegas. Keeps going on and on about it." Stone was slightly confused. "Anything strange about this Mendez?" Rollins shook his head. "No, sir. I know his wife left him a few weeks ago, some rumors about abuse, but the CIS cleared him, so he kept his security rating." Stone nodded, unsure. "Okay, well, let's get to work on that rationing, Major." Rollins nodded and shut off the screen on his end.

"What was that about?" Marsha Newberry asked. Stone shrugged. "Probably nothing. It's a standard policy in an enclosed environment like 'Wildfire' to watch for any evidence of phobia or anxiety." "Who watches the watchers?" Ruth Leavitt asked sarcastically.


	4. Chapter 4

WILDFIRE

Day Three at the underground laboratory began with the entire team attempting to create an "immune booster" that would counter the effects of "Blue". Three Rhesus monkeys had been deliberately infected immediately after the team's meeting and were showing positive signs within a few hours. After doing tests on samples of "Blue" in Petri dishes, various forms of the newly-developed HIV suppressing drugs were injected into them. By Day Four, "Subject A" showed no positive signs; the virus continued to mutate and grow and the monkey's condition continued to deteriorate. "Subject B" had seemed to "plateau" for a few hours. Blood samples showed "Blue" had "stalled", no growth and the virii began to die, but then a new strain emerged and the process continued to full-blown infection again.

"Subject C" was improving. The creature's blood samples showed a decrease in virii and what little bit of phlegm and congestion there was had stopped. Blood samples taken late on Day Four showed almost no trace of "Blue" in its system. However the team noted a sharp spike in the animal's REM sleep activity on the electroencephalograph. Twitching and flailing its arms on occasion, the monkey experienced a huge spike in the time it spent in a dream-state. Consultation with a zoologist in San Diego indicated that such dream activity was exceedingly rare in lower primates. At the end of the phone call, Stone noted that the scientist was sniffling and had a slight cough.

The monkey's condition remained stable as Day Five approached. Then an alarm went off at 2250 hours as the Team was in a late meeting. They rushed down to the animal lab and found the creature dead in its cage. It was transferred to Autopsy and Hall and Newberry examined it. Blood samples showed no sign of "Blue", but when Hall opened up the skull, a massive cerebral hemorrhage had occurred. There was nothing else wrong with the small primate.

They sat in silence in the Conference Room as Day Five began. Finally, Newberry spoke, "The cerebral hemorrhage could be totally unrelated to the drug regimen." They nodded at that. Stone looked at some papers. "The health of the subject animals, " he began slowly, "Is one of the paramount concerns in obtaining and caring for them. We can't do proper experimentation without a solid, healthy baseline to compare it to." Leavitt concurred, "I agree. Until we shut down medical experimentation…something I agreed with, by the way…I can't recall a single time when a Rhesus died on us from a cerebral hemorrhage, unless it was induced by something we did in the experiment." "I say we try again with another monkey," Hall said. And they agreed.

Before they finished though, McMahon came on the video display. "Dr. Stone? Another call from Dr. Denninger in Vermont." Stone nodded, "Put it through, Captain." Denninger appeared. "Dr. Stone? We've got some updates for you." Stone waved him to continue. "As we suspected, Redmon is totally immune. We injected 'Blue' into him and his immune system destroyed it, within minutes even." "Is there anyway we can get a sample of his blood?" Hall asked hopefully. Denninger shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. You are still in a lock-down mode." "Dr. Denninger, this is totally unacceptable," Stone began. "But," Denninger interrupted, "We can send you all the work-ups and platelet photos we've done over the fax." "Thanks loads," Ruth Leavitt replied. "What's the situation with the spread?" Stone asked.

"Reports are coming in from all over the country," Denninger began, "Any hope at containment is long gone. Plus we've got reports from London, Paris, Hong Kong, Tokyo, even Moscow and Beijing." The "Wildfire" Team sat there in stunned silence for a minute. Denninger continued, "Per the President, General Starkey has ordered a media blackout and we're pretty much looking at martial law." Another minute of silence passed. "We'll try to keep you undated," Denninger continued, "Good luck." And the screen went black.

"Good God," Marsha Newberry stated slowly. "I seriously doubt it, " Ruth Leavitt said in reply. Stone regained his composure and then looked to the group. "All right. Mark, let's try that batch we used on 'C' on another subject. Hall nodded slowly. He turned to Leavitt and Newberry. "Ruth? Marsha? I want you to start running biochemistry on the 'cocktail' to see how it'll respond in a human." Leavitt looked up. "Jeremy, we may not know if it works unless we have a human subject to test it on." "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Stone replied. There was something slightly ominous in the statement.


	5. Chapter 5

OUT OF CONTROL

Day Five proceeded and the Subject "D" was exposed to "Blue" and then thirty minutes later, given the "Blue Suppressor-3" as the Team was now calling it. The small primate remained healthy and alert throughout the day. No signs of infection appeared at all. But the "Wildfire" Team watched anxiously as the creature slept later in the afternoon. Almost immediately upon going to sleep, it began showing massive REM cycles, both indicated by its eye movements and on the EEG. Its small furry arms and legs twitched as if it was fighting off something. This continued for almost an hour, until it finally awoke itself. The Rhesus was obviously agitated and leaped around inside its cage. A tranquilizer was fed to it and it eventually calmed down.

Three more primates were exposed to the virus and then given the "cure." They showed similar behavior. All were normal until they went to sleep. Then the fitful dreams, with EEG scales not at all "monkey-like", then they'd awake and be extremely nervous and anxious. No tranquilizers were given to two of them, and they did calm down on their own after a few hours. Subject "D" slept again five hours later. It began going into REM sleep, the EEG spiked, and then the creature grabbed its head in an obvious sign of pain and the EEG and EKG both flat-lined. Another massive cerebral hemorrhage. Within eight hours, the other three monkeys were dead in the exact same way.

"What the hell are we looking at, Jeremy?" Ruth Leavitt asked. Stone, already beginning to become exhausted from lack of sleep himself, rubbed his eyes and said, "I have no idea. None of those drugs have ever shown any sign of hemorrhage induction even in an overdose. If it was an overdose, they'd be puking and have diarrhea. The brain wouldn't be popping." Hall and Newberry returned from doing the autopsy on Subject "D". They confirmed. Exactly the same as "C" from the day before.

Hall was just in the middle of suggesting that they pump the monkeys full of amphetamines, to keep them awake and see how they responded, when a Condition Red alarm went off. Stone, Leavitt, and Hall all remembered clearly the low, moaning wail of the siren and the red flashing lights from the breach of "Andromeda" years earlier. Stone reached for the communications button and called up to McMahon.

"Captain!" he began, "What is it?" McMahon was frantic, flipping switches as he obviously scanned the TV monitors in the Communications Hub. "Doctor Stone….Doctor Stone, somebody has broken out." Stone was slightly confused given they were talking about the monkeys. "One of the test animals?" Rollins entered the room; he was scanning screens with McMahon. "No, sir," Rollins answered instead, "One of our people…Mendez." "How?" Rollins kept talking as he scanned the screens, "He by-passed the door, and the elevator for the office bathroom entry. McMahon interrupted. "I got him!" "Patch us through," Stone asked.

Mendez, a Hispanic corporal in his early twenties, was out the main office of the "waste facility" and making his way over to a Humvee in the parking lot. Rollins voice came over a loudspeaker attached to the side of the building; it was repeated on the display on Level Five to the team. "Hector! It's Major Rollins," he began, "Come on back in and we'll sit down and talk this out." Mendez ignored him and opened up the driver's seat. His head disappeared under the dash. It was obvious he was trying to hot-wire the vehicle. Rolling tried again, "Hector, come on, man. There's no where to go." The Army vehicle fired up its engines. The young man stepped out of the car momentarily and stared up at the camera. "No, Major. He's calling me." He smiled slightly. "Meet me in Vegas and I'll treat you to a beer!" With that, he re-entered the car and drove towards the gate. The Hummer easily crashed through it. Sparks flew off the electrified fence, but to no effect. Rollins panned the camera and they all watched as Mendez sped off to the north, directly for Las Vegas.

There was silence for a minute. Rollins rested on his hands on the console, mouth slightly open. McMahon eventually panned the camera back to the broken gate. "Sir? Should we send a team out to fix it?" Rollins didn't answer. McMahon looked over to Jeremy Stone on his monitor. "Dr. Stone?" Stone shook his head. "No point, Captain," he began, "What's the status of the door leading to the bathroom elevator?" McMahon checked some screens and status lights. "It's locked down again, sir. The elevator is up on the ground level." Stone nodded. "All right, Captain. Major Rollins? Let us know if anything else…er…happens." He couldn't think of a better way to phrase it.

Stone looked back at the team. "Severe anxiety combined with his marriage break-up?" Hall offered. Not a trained psychologist, as any doctor he did know something about human behavior. Stone shook his head. "Everybody at 'Wildfire' gets a mandatory psych eval every two weeks. I checked Mendez' after what Rollins told me. Typical stress from his wife leaving. Some anger issues. But nothing that would cause that." He thumbed towards the video screen.

They tried to get back to their discussion of keeping the monkeys awake, when McMahon interrupted again. Rollins was gone. "Dr. Stone?" he began, "Another call from Dr. Denninger." Stone nodded, "That's fine, McMahon. But did you ever get General Starkey?" McMahon shook his head. "His aide said he'd call me back, but nothing so far, Dr. Stone." "Okay, put Denninger through."

Denninger's face appeared. He was obviously exhausted and Stone couldn't help but notice that he sniffled ever third or fourth sentence. "Dr. Stone? We have some more information for you." Stone smiled slightly at any news he hoped would be good. "It's about Redmon, something we didn't really note until last night." "Yes, go on." "We've noted a big spike in his REM cycle. He's dreaming like crazy." Stone and the rest stared at each other for a moment. Hall interrupted. "EEG and REM both? Higher than average readings?" Denninger nodded. "We didn't think anything about it. Just figured he was having bad dreams about the news his town was wiped out." Stone spoke this time. "The dreams? Are they disturbing? Is he showing a lot of limb movement?" Denninger shook his head. "No, actually he seems quite peaceful most of the time, until the end of the cycle."

Stone and Hall looked at each other puzzled. "Do an MRI if you can," Hall demanded, "See if you pick up any signs of aneurysm or trauma in the brain." "I don't think he'll hold still for an MRI," Denninger explained, "He's gotten quite…moody…in the last few days." "Well, do an ultrasound or X-ray or whatever you can," Stone insisted, "We need to know what's going on in his head." Denninger nodded and then sneezed quite loudly. Newberry spoke this time. "Dr. Denninger? What are the dreams about?" "We haven't asked, but I'll try to find out for you." He said goodbye and the screen went blank.

"That's gotta be the connection," Leavitt stated forcefully. "Bit of a leap, Ruth," Stone declared, "How do you link vivid dreaming with immunity to a virus?" "Jeremy! What the hell else is there to go on?" she exclaimed. "It does seem logical," Marsha Newberry stated, "The lone survivor of an infected town, total immunity to the virus…and he also has the same intense REM cycle as those monkeys we shot up?" Stone considered it. "Mark? What do you think?" Hall seemed to be distracted. "Mark?" He snapped out of it. "Definitely a possibility. Though I'm damned if I know how brain activity in sleep and viral immunity could be linked…especially since 'Blue' is sinus-respiratory disease, it has little effect on the brain."

"What about Mendez? Could there be a link there?" Newberry asked. "I don't see how," Stone said, "He hasn't been infected, nobody here has." She continued, "But I remember reading some of the symptomolgy of 'Andromeda' from you and Mark's reports. Some of the victims, who had a slight immunity due to their blood PH, went…nuts." Stone and Hall looked at each and slightly nodded. "Only problem with that theory is," she continued, "As you said, Mendez hadn't been infected." Stone shook himself a bit. "Look, let's operate without considering Mendez. Deal with what we do know. The monkeys survived on 'BS-3' until their second sleep cycle. Let's keep 'em awake and see how they respond." No one was completely satisfied, but they all agreed and went back to the testing rooms.


	6. Chapter 6

EVERYTHING BURNS

Day Five dragged on, as the team monitored the three new Rhesus monkeys infected and then treated with "Blue Suppressor-3." As the primates began to show signs of drowsiness, they were fed a small amphetamine. They responded normally and continued their daily activities of eating, waste elimination, and grooming themselves. The disease never came back as blood samples were taken again and showed negative. As a control, one was re-infected and given no BS-3. It quickly developed symptoms and was on its way to full-blown infection by the next day. A second was taken off the amphetamine and allowed to sleep late on the night of Day Five. It had the same spasmodic dreaming as the previous ones, awoke, seemed agitated, and then upon a second sleep cycle, died of a cerebral hemorrhage.

As Day Six began and went into the afternoon, Subject "J" referred to as "Jay" by Leavitt was kept awake by the amphetamines. He continued to behave normally, though the team knew it was no permanent answer.

"We can't keep pumping him full of stimulants forever, Jeremy," Ruth Leavitt stated, "He's going to have to sleep eventually." Stone was still reading lab results and looked up at the video monitor locked on "Jay" as he picked loose hairs off his tail. "How long since he was hit with BS-3?" "Almost nineteen hours," Leavitt answered reading a slip of paper. "And how long since his exposure to 'Blue'?" "Twenty hours." Stone pondered that for a moment. "Let's give him another five hours, round up to a full day. Then let him sleep and we'll see what happens." Leavitt nodded. Stone's face grew serious. "Just in case, though," he said grimly, "We better prepare another batch of Rhesus." Leavitt raised her eyebrows. "You do know, that's the last ones?" Stone looked at her. His gaze was deadly serious. "If it doesn't work…we won't need anymore."

The point wasn't lost on Leavitt. At their last meeting in the early morning of Day Six, they had gotten a call from Denninger again. He was showing signs of infection. Cough, sneezing, runny nose. He tried to hide it but it was painfully obvious. He eventually got to their "guest", Stuart Redmon. "He's refusing to talk about his dreams," he began, between fits of coughs, "In fact, he's pretty much useless to us now. We've run every test in the book on him." He paused, coughed for nearly twenty seconds and started again. "We got an ultrasound, what we could, off of him. All clean. EEG and REM still bouncing…cough, cough…in the high end of the spectrum. But he's clearly not suffering any type of stroke or aneurysm." "Thank you, Dr. Denninger," Stone said. Denninger blew his nose, and then said, "Dr. Stone? I really don't think we'll be sending you any more updates." Stone nodded. "We understand." And the screen went blank.

The "Wildfire" Team sat quietly for a few minutes. Minutes earlier, they had finally spoken to General Starkey's aide at "Blue Base". He had updated them on the national situation. Whole cities were infected. Mass chaos had broken out, exasperated by the clamp-down on the media. A radio talk show host had been heard being shot by Army personnel sent to shut the station down and the feed had gone out nation-wide before it could be stopped. Those not sick or barely sick had seen looters shot and mass graves in fields outside the major towns. America was collapsing, especially as Army and National Guard units themselves became infected and deserted or died in military infirmaries.

"Where's General Starkey?" Stone finally asked of the aide. The aide wiped a tear away. "He's dead. He…he took his own life about an hour ago." "Cowardly bastard," Leavitt said in not-so-hushed a voice. Stone turned and gave her a stern look, but the aide didn't seem to hear it. As they ended the call, they heard a person in the background begin a coughing fit.

As the twenty-fourth hour approached, the amphetamine was wearing off and the small primate began to become listless and stared off into space, his breathing slowing. Finally, it went to sleep. Almost immediately, it went into a REM state. The dreams were particularly fitful; its tiny arms and legs flailing. As the cycle reached its peak, the monkey seemed to spasm and its head cocked to one side. And it died.

Stone, Leavitt, Newberry, and Hall stared at the creature through the window. Finally a lab tech pulled Stone's sleeve. "Sir?" Stone grabbed the EEG read-out she handed him. Same pattern as before. "Run it to Radiology," he ordered robotically. The technician did as he said and the cage left the Testing Lab on a conveyor belt and through a door in the wall. The tech finally left the room. The team members still frozen in their place. Hall finally sat down at a chair by the console. "We just delayed it," he said, followed by a hard swallow. Leavitt took the other chair and Stone began to pace around the room. Newberry just continued to stare at the window into the empty testing area.

She spoke in a low voice. "He kills them in their dreams," then she repeated, "He kills them in their dreams." The other three turned and looked at her. "What did you say?" Hall asked. Marsha seemed to jump slightly and looked over at him. "I said it kills them in their dreams." He shook his head. "No you didn't. You said 'he' kills them in their dreams." She seemed frightened by this correction and then quickly looked past it. "Sorry," she laughed "Anthropomorphizing virii is a bad habit to get into." Hall smiled, but it was forced.

Stone looked over at Leavitt for a moment. Then he turned back to the other two. "Look, we're all running low here. Let's take six hours and get some..." He almost said "sleep", but quickly changed it to "rest. And then start fresh after the pictures get back from Radiology." Stone motioned with his eyes at Hall, to Newberry. Hall, catching the glance, looked at her and said "Come on, Marsha. I'll walk ya down to your room." She said nothing and followed him out the Testing Area.

After they left, Stone turned to Leavitt. "What do you think?" "Her or the virus?" she asked. Stone looked to the door and back. She sniffed. "I think she's stressing out like we all are." She stretched. "I'd kill for a smoke right now." Stone laughed. "Ruth, you quit fifteen years ago." "Then how about a quick roll in the hay with some 'curious' blonde grad student? Hell, at this point, Stone, I might jump you." He smiled. "Come on, let's get some rest." She smiled back at him and they left the room.


	7. Chapter 7

DARK DREAMS IN A DARK HOLE

As they approached Marsha Newberry's quarters, she stated matter-of-factly, "My family is all dead now, Hall." He looked over at her. "What?" She kept looking ahead, but started nodding. "If not dead, they soon will be." "What are you talking about/" he asked. "My father works as a ticket agent at New Orleans International," she began, "He'd run into hundreds of people a day at the counter. From all over. " Hall understood. She went on. "And they'd be right in his face, spewing saliva or 'Blue'-tainted air, demanding a seat near a window or 'How long is my layover in Chicago?' Even if it was just one out of Oklahoma, Texas, or Arkansas. And he'd be grabbing their bag to put on the conveyor belt. With handles loaded with 'Blue'…and then wiping his eyes behind his glasses."

"Then it's home to Mama," she continued, "First kiss or even as soon as he breathed in her face, she'd be infected. My sister-in-law Giselle comes over for a recipe or some damn thing later that day, and she carries it back to my brother and my niece. And that was days ago, before Denninger even left Atlanta." Hall tried to interrupt. "Marsha, don't." But she kept going, even as she walked into her small room. Hall, uncertain what to do, followed her in and the automatic door slid with a small whoosh behind them.

"Figure Daddy is in the last stages now…or dead," her eyes were focused on the blank wall to the left of the door. "Mama sick, probably too sick care for him or even walk. Richard, Giselle, and little Helen…bed-ridden. Blowing snot and coughing until their lungs ache." She was silent then. Hall didn't know what to say. He had no family. His ex-wife was vehemently against having children and he had never pressed the issue. His parents had died years earlier; father of a stroke when he was twelve (it's what led him to go into medicine) and his mother in a drowning accident at her seniors' swim club just six years ago. He had nobody "up there" and so he didn't know how to comfort Newberry.

As he was about to speak, he saw her start to unzip the front of her white "Wildfire" jumpsuit. "Marsha…I'm going to go." He barely got the words out when the coverall laid crumpled at her feet and she was already removing the utilitarian brassiere underneath. "Mar…" She flung the bra to the floor and quickly slipped her panties down and off her legs. Fully nude except for the nuclear detonation key dangling on a silver chain between her breasts, she turned to Hall and looked up at him. Gazing intently in his blue eyes with hers, she said solemnly "It's the end of the world, Mark. What the hell else is there left to do?" She kissed him passionately, not even waiting for a response. Hall had nothing to say, nothing to comfort her and nothing to say to reject her. He had nothing even to say to himself. He kissed her back and let her unzip his jumpsuit.

Some time later, they lay on the bed in Newberry's room. The rooms were always kept a constant temperature, so a thin blanket and single sheet covered their nakedness and was enough to keep them warm. Newberry was asleep, while Hall was watching her. At first, it was the simple act of appreciating her beauty. She was beautiful, with a face that showed less "hardness" outside of the grind of their work and had a light, even pixie-like countenance. The taut body of an athletic woman naturally had its appeal too. But later, he also realized he was watching for something else…and eventually it came.

Noting her eyes, he saw the tell-tale rapid movements of her eyes, underneath the eyelids, within ten minutes of her falling unconscious. At first, the dream-state seemed normal. Newberry's face was relaxed, seemed even peaceful. And then a single syllable escaped her lips. "_ska?" The word seemed like the end of a question to Hall; one that was clipped. Then her face changed. It grew pinched and her legs started to twitch under the blanket. Tiny beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. This lasted for thirty seconds or so and then ended. The REM stopped and she resumed normal, rhythmic breathing.

He racked his brain for several minutes. There had to be some connection between the vivid dreaming and immunity to the virus. Redmon and the monkeys couldn't be an anomaly, he just felt it. But all his training and all his experience told him this was impossible. Brain chemistry has no effect on a respiratory ailment totally distinct from neuron or brain activity. But he just "knew" somehow it was related…and now he also knew somehow, that Marsha Newberry and likely Corporal Hector Mendez were immune as well to "Blue". He was wrong about her, but didn't know it. Finally tired and confused, he too fell asleep, spooned-up to Marsha's back.

Jeremy Stone got no more than two hours sleep before his room display buzzed and Major Rollins came on the screen. Wiping his eyes, Stone reached the desk and sat down. "Yes, Major?" He saw Rollins had dark circles under his eyes and that they were also bloodshot. Rollins took a breath, haltingly. "Sir? Just got an update from Blue Base. Some Private Elbert. The whole base is lost. Most of the crises team is in the infirmary or dying at their consoles. Elbert seems unaffected, but couldn't tell for sure, because he was crying like a baby. Might have been the disease or just the crying." Stone nodded. "Okay, Major, thank you. Anything else?" Rollins took another deep breath. "I've lost three more of my team." "What?" Stone was incredulous. Rollins nodded. "Simpkins, Garner, and Leftkowitz went AWOL some time in the past two hours. Service elevator this time. They cracked the doors and took the ladder up to ground level." He stared off into space. "Major Rollins? What is it?"

Rollins sighed and tears formed in his eyes. "I broke protocol, sir." "What do you mean?" "I called my wife on the ground line," Rollins began, "We got word from SAC/NORAD in Omaha that D.C. was lost. President…Joint Chiefs. Dead or dying. When I heard that, I …I just…started dialing the phone. I knew it was a major infraction on outside communications, but I just couldn't help it." Stone watched him pause and said nothing. Finally, wiping his eyes, "My wife, sir. She works in the Pentagon, lives in Silver Spring. She was going to move out here next week. See, I just got assigned 'Wildfire' two weeks ago, did you know that?" Stone nodded. "Yes, I read it."

The major continued. "I got through to her. She could barely speak. She was hacking and coughing and I knew she had it. I told her I loved her and that we were working on a cure. She didn't seem to hear me. Kept muttering crazy stuff and then finally I heard her drop the phone. I kept yelling at her to pick up the phone." He paused again, trying to regain his composure. "I kept yelling at her to pick up …for an hour. For an hour, Doctor Stone!" Stone's eyes went down. Rollins was openly weeping now. When he heard his voice again, Jeremy Stone looked up. "Last report from Colorado Springs came in, Dr. Stone;" Rollins almost sounded his normal, cool self again, "The NORAD Complex is compromised." He laughed. "Some idiot picked up a hitchhiker before getting to the base. After it was sealed, it was too late." Rollins eyes went blank again. "You hang in there, Major" Stone said and shut off the display.

Ruth Leavitt dreamed. At first she was in a cornfield. This confused her because being born and raised in Philadelphia, educated at the University of Chicago, and spending her entire adult life in a lab in one major city or another, she was the least "rural" person that even she knew. Ruth could count on one hand the number of times she had even seen a cornfield. She picked her way through the corn and came out into a clearing, where a clapboard house stood. An extremely old black woman sat on the porch, strumming a guitar.

As she stepped up to the old woman, she smiled at Leavitt and said "Nice to see you, Ruth." Leavitt smiled back and replied. "Uh, okay. Sorry, didn't catch the name?" The old woman laughed slightly. "Folks 'round here call me Mother Abigail, but o-fishly it's Abigail Fremantle." Leavitt walked closer, stepping onto the first step of the porch. "Why am I here?" she asked. "Mother Abigail" became more serious. "You and your friends gotta come see me, at my house in Hemingford Home, Nebraska. The Lord has work for you." Leavitt laughed now. "I'm a lapsed Jew turned atheist and a lesbian to boot," she said chuckling, "I doubt God would want my help for anything."

Mother Abigail remained firm. "He still loves you Ruth, and expects great things from you, as He did your namesake in the Bible!" Leavitt was about to reply to that, when a cold wind blew out of the fields. She turned from the old woman and looked out into the corn. Very far off, in-between the rows, she saw a dark figure. It looked like a man, but it was …fuzzy, out of focus. Then she saw two fiery red eyes open and stare at her. "Better stay in your hole, little rabbit!" it said in an oily voice, like a snake's hiss strained through a moldering grave. And she awoke.


	8. Chapter 8

THE FIRES DIE DOWN

Day Six was ending as they met again in the Conference Room. Nobody spoke at first. Stone noticed discernible changes in all three of his fellow team-members but couldn't put his finger on what it was. Leavitt's cynical jocularity was almost non-existent. Newberry stared off at the wall and Hall stared at Newberry, furtively glancing away from her whenever Stone spoke. It was only when Hall stood up before the group to go over "How long can somebody go without sleep?" that Stone noticed something wholly out-of-the-ordinary, given their situation. There was a small hickey just inside the collar of Hall's jumpsuit between his Adam's apple and clavicle. He immediately noted the size and its exact match to the size of Newberry's mouth.

Hall noticed Stone staring at him and then Marsha and asked 'Jeremy? You didn't answer me? What about _Bistrocortiline_?" Stone snapped his head up and recognizing the last word, nodded. _Bistrocortiline_ was a sleep reduction agent developed for the Army about twelve years earlier. Basically allowed the soldiers to stay in a light, REM-less sleep in case of an ambush or alert. Terax Pharmaceutical had developed it, but it had never been approved for use since America had, fortunately, avoided any extended wars requiring lots of soldiers in continuous combat situations. The only downside to the drug was, once the user came off of it, they "caught up" on their missed sleep and would practically go into a coma for a week or more. Stone mentioned that last side effect. He then noted that it didn't matter because there was no supply of the drug at "Wildfire", only standard stimulants like caffeine and "speed".

Newberry and Leavitt had said almost nothing. Hall too got quiet, both trying to come up with some other solution and out of concern for Marsha, as well as the team in general. Stone tried to break the silence, throwing out ideas as they popped in his head. "What if…uh…we thinned the blood?" Hall shook his head. "No evidence from the autopsies that the hemorrhages were caused by high blood pressure." Stone resumed his quiet pensiveness. "What if we…uh…uh…prevent the brain from entering REM state with cauterization of some of the lobe?" Hall smirked and huffed. "We'll cure 'Blue' and then give everybody a lobotomy?" Stone turned, his face red with rage. He lunged at the table and yelled at Hall. "Goddammit, Hall! Then you think of something, you fucking asshole!"

Even Leavitt and Newberry were shaken from their stupor. Hall's eyes widened. And the other three stared at Jeremy Stone. Stone still frozen, his hands on the table, looked around the room at his colleagues. His face transformed quickly from anger to confusion to total embarrassment. He rarely raised his voice and hadn't cursed at anyone in his entire life. The others, even Leavitt and Hall, had never seen that aspect of him ever as well. It just "wasn't" Jeremy Stone.

"I'm…I'm sorry…Sorry, Hall…Everybody," he said, standing erect and then sitting down with a heavy thud into his chair. No one spoke for almost five minutes. Stone got up and got himself a drink of water from the dispenser. Leavitt stroked her grey-silver hair. Newberry would look over to Hall, her eyes like a frightened deer. Hall managed a weak smile and slid his chair around the table to hold her hand. Marsha smiled just as weakly back at him and then looked down at the floor. Then she raised her head up and slowly said, "I have an idea, Jeremy." Stone's gaze came off his drink and his eyes brightened slightly. He looked over to the younger woman. "Of course, Marsha. Go ahead."

"Maybe…" she continued to speak rather slowly, "Maybe, we should just let it happen." Leavitt and Hall looked at her. Stone seemed confused. "I'm sorry. Let 'what' happen?" "The pandemic," she said, her voice growing stronger. Stone laughed slightly and then noticed how deadly serious Newberry was. "Marsha," he began, trying to be comforting, "We're all very tired and obviously have some frayed nerves. If you need to take a few hours and get some sleep…" She shook her head. "No." She stood up; Hall released his grasp. "Just let it go, Jeremy." Stone tried to speak again, but Marsha Newberry would hear none of it. "No, " she said softly but firmly, "It's over. Even if we found an answer in the next ten minutes, we could never get the drugs or tell the hospitals how to fight it…hell, there probably aren't any hospitals left. Just big white buildings filled with corpses and doctors and nurses about to _become_ corpses in the next 24 hours." She sat back down and leaned forward. "Jeremy, it's over. " Her voice was remarkably calm and soothing. "There's no more reason for us to stay here."

"Marsha…" Stone began. And then lost his train of thought. Hall stood up and walked behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders. Then reached over and put one of them on Leavitt's right shoulder as well. Ruth looked up at him as he stared down at her. She nodded slightly. "She's right, Stone," he began, turning to the older man, "There's nothing left to do down here except kill monkeys and find a cure for a disease that will have killed everybody it can kill in the next two days." "Hall, for God's sakes," Stone started, "We're scientists. We're doctors. We just don't 'give up' and let civilization collapse." Hall looked back down at Marsha who looked up at him, and then he turned back to Stone.

"Civilization? It's through, Jeremy. If it ever existed," he said, "In 24 hours, there will be fewer people in this country than there were at the end of the 18th Century. In 48 hours? Fewer than were here before Columbus, less even." He sat again, beside Newberry, taking her hand again. "There won't be enough people to run an automobile factory…or the power plant for it… or the coal mine to feed that. If the immunity ratio stays true to Redmon and Arnette...throw in accidents and suicides, there might be enough to fill a couple of small towns in Indiana, if you herded them across the country on buses."

"We could still find a cure," Stone insisted. Hall shook his head. "There won't be any need for it. Everybody infected and not immune will be dead. Everybody immune, as Redmon showed, are non-carriers." The older man slumped in his chair. "I can't just let it end this way." "It wasn't your call, Jeremy," Hall stated, "This thing was a done deal the moment Campion left that base, seconds before the gates finally closed. It's like God Himself ordained it." At that, Ruth Leavitt looked up and stared at Hall. Stone put his head in his hands and rested his elbows on the table. "It's your call for the base, Jeremy," Hall concluded, "But Marsha and I are leaving." He looked at her, she nodded smiling.


	9. Chapter 9

OUT OF THE ASHES

At Hall's insistence, they all turned in and caught some sleep. Stone had nothing left. He moved like a zombie, shuffling out of the Conference Room, saying nothing and proceeding down the curved corridor to his room. Leavitt walked with him and saw him in. She then turned to Hall and Newberry and said, "I'll get him in the morning and we'll let Rollins and the rest of the staff know." Hall nodded and then took Marsha to her room. He set the automatic alarm beside the bed, just as midnight Day Seven struck. He then stripped down to his underwear and got into the bed.

Marsha went to the bathroom. She came back a minute later, smiled lightly at Hall, and then took off her jumpsuit and crawled into bed with him. He held her, propped up on the pillows. Neither spoke for a while. "Where will we go?" he finally asked her. Without hesitation, she said "Nebraska." He laughed and said "What?" Marsha turned and looked at him. "Hemingford Home" "Okay? Sounds quaint," he shrugged, "You know somebody there?" She nodded. "Family?" "No, not exactly," she replied, but reiterated, "But that's where we have to go." Hall shrugged again. "Good a place as any," he said smiling. She smiled back.

"By the way," he said, "You were wrong." "About what?" "What you said in Autopsy when we examined Campion and his wife and kid….you're not a racist." She frowned slightly. "I don't know, Mark…it's just…" "No," he interrupted, "You forgot something." "What's that?" "A real racist…doesn't ever think they're a racist, or doesn't see anything wrong with being one." Hall stared intently in her eyes. "You're a good person, Marsha." She smiled at him again. Then she kissed him. Then they began making love to each other.

Stone finally fell to sleep after an hour in the bed. Then he dreamed. It was an old dream, familiar given his current position. It was the dream he had of his wife, laid over their couch in the living room from 1970 dead from "Andromeda". She was still in her late thirties, as she had been then, but instead of powdered blood, draining out of her broken arteries like sand through a pipe, now she was blackened and flush, nose oozing yellow mucous as a "Blue" victim would be. And he was in the dream. Walking towards her in a bio-protection suit, the same one he had worn at Piedmont twenty-odd years earlier. "You let her die, Stone!" came a voice. He turned and standing before him was Hall in his bio-suit, eyes glaring at Stone through the visor. "You let her…die!"

Stone screamed "No!" echoing in his own ears inside the helmet and rushed at "Hall". As he got closer, the figure changed into a smirking man in a Levi jacket, with a mane of blonde hair and high cowboy boots. He caught Stone by the arms and then with a fury, red eyes gleaming an inch from Stone's visor, yelled "YOU LET THEM ALL DIE!" And then Jeremy Stone woke up.

Leavitt had Mother Abigail again. She once again told Ruth to "get your friends and get up here to Nebraska", but with the additional warning, "But don't go through his land, child!" Leavitt understood without understanding how she understood. "Las Vegas." Mother Abigail nodded. "Steer well clear of it. His forces will be arriving there soon!" The dream ended peacefully, with the lilting sounds of the old woman's guitar playing.

Hall had no dreams and awoke the morning of Day Seven. Dressing, he made his way to the Conference Room. "One last meal of that god-awful protein crap," he said to himself. Stone caught up to him in the corridor. "Morning, Hall," Stone seemed almost…chipper. "Jeremy," he responded. Together they entered the room and Hall got two servings of the nutrient drink for them. Stone meanwhile called up Rollins on the video display.

Rollins looked like hell. His uniform was disheveled and his sleeplessness was even more pronounced. "Oh…Dr. Stone…sorry, sir," he began, "Yes?" "Rollins, on my authority, " Stone began slowly in a speech he had obviously prepared, "We're calling an end to the crises. Crack the doors, order your people to start evacuating." Rollins smiled. "You found the cure, sir?" Stone shook his head and started again slowly, "Frank…it's Frank, right?" Rollins nodded. "Frank, there is no cure. We're not going to find one and it's too late anyway. " The Army officer's shoulders slumped again. Stone continued. "By the time you and your people get to any major population centers, the virus will have probably played itself out. There won't be anybody left to infect you. Just to be sure you might want to spend the first day isolated." Rollins nodded almost without thought.

Final preparations were made for the lab evacuation. Fortunately even with the stolen vehicles, there were buses (which were used to shuttle personnel between "Wildfire" and Las Vegas) as well as another half dozen Humvees. Within two hours, the ninety-five or so lab personnel were filing up the service elevators to the ground level. Rollins was coordinating with McMahon, the handful of officers and non-comms, loading technicians and workers onto the buses. One by one they pulled out of the "EnviroCore" parking lot and trundled down the dirt road to the main one.

Nobody knew exactly where to go. Some insisted they wanted to return home to their families, though all knew they were most likely dead. Some wanted to proceed to Nellis or Indian Springs Air Force bases, figuring there might still be surviving uninfected military personnel who knew what was happening. Oddly, several wanted to go to Las Vegas, but could offer no explanation of why. A few others wanted to go to an even stranger locale…a small, almost unknown town in Nebraska. Newberry and Leavitt nodded knowingly at that group. The groups divided up by vehicle and began pulling out of the facility, heading in different directions.

Hall and Stone were the last ones out of the lab; Hall carrying a small bag filled with bottled waters and some rations. Stone carrying something wrapped in a towel, that Hall figured had to be a personal item or "one last notebook".

When they got to the elevator controls, Hall set down his bag and turned to Stone. He was pointing a 9mm pistol at Hall. Mark Hall stared at the weapon, aimed straight at his heart. "Jeremy, what the he…" Stone interrupted, "Give me your key, Hall." "My what?" "Give me your key," the older man repeated. Suddenly Hall realized what he was talking about…and realized what Stone was going to do.

"Jeremy," he began, "You don't have to do this." Stone shook his head with a slight smile. "You can live with me and Marsha and Ruth." "No thanks, Mark. If it's the end of civilization, then I'm going out with it." Hall tried to step forward and Stone pointed the gun at his head. He stopped and tried again. "Jeremy, the people who survive…they're going to need MDs. There's still diseases out there, stuff that's going to pop up without working sewers and pharmaceutical plants. Cholera, typhus, diphtheria." Stone continued to smile. "I'm sure you'll do a great job at helping them, Mark. But my mind's made up. " Then he stopped smiling. "And as an old friend, I'm going to give you a chance to get away with the women. But I swear to God, I'll kill you, take the key, and blow the whole place, killing me and them in the blast." Hall stared into the eyes of his old friend…and knew he meant every word.

Slowly he took the necklace and red key from around his neck. Stone motioned for him to toss it down the corridor behind him and Hall did. He backed up and still pointing the gun at Hall, grabbed the key and looped it over his neck. "I'll give you twenty minutes," Stone began, "The blast will be mostly contained underground…so that should give you plenty of distance if you start driving now." Hall tried again. "Jeremy, listen to me," he said, "This wasn't your fault. There's no reason for you to kill yourself." Jeremy Stone smiled. "Still trying to save people, huh, Mark? Well, take it from me…it's a wasted effort." He backed up to the entry to "Wildfire." "You've got twenty minutes. Starting now." And with that, he went through the door.

Hall watched the door indicator go from green to red. He then looked at his watch and hurriedly pressed the button on the service elevator. Reaching the surface, he ran across the parking lot to the last remaining Humvee. Marsha and Ruth were already loaded in it with the engine running for the air conditioning. He hopped in the driver's seat and put it in gear. "Wait, where's Stone?" Ruth yelled.

"He's not coming," Mark Hall stated bluntly. "WHAT?" Leavitt screamed, "What are the hell are you talking about, Hall. Stop this car!" But he had already peeled out of the gravel parking lot and was heading for the gate. "He's not coming, Ruth," Marsha Newberry confirmed. "What? What?" Ruth got quieter, but was still nearly hysterical, "What the fuck do you mean 'he's not coming'. Goddammit, Hall, stop this fucking car and go back for him." Hall ignored her, but Marsha in the backseat with Leavitt put her hand on the older woman's hand. "He's not coming, " she repeated quietly. Ruth Leavitt turned and stared at Newberry and opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. She looked out the rear window as the "toxic waste facility" began to disappear behind them. "Jeremy" was the last sound she made for the next twenty minutes.

"Mark?" Marsha leaned forward, "Go due east. Don't go towards Vegas." Hall, still processing what Stone was going to do, was slightly confused. "But we can hit I-15 and make good time?" Newberry shook her head as he looked at her in the rearview mirror. "No…we need to stay away from Vegas. Trust me." Hall nodded and turned south on to Nevada Highway 95.

They drove on. With nineteen minutes expired, Hall figured they had covered maybe ten miles or more. The highway had climbed upward to a small ridge, so he pulled off to the side of the road and grabbed a pair of binoculars out of the glove box. The women joined him. "Wildfire" wasn't even visible. A slight shimmering of tarmac, barely a dot, that was the airfield where they had landed just a week ago, was the only sign on the horizon. He looked at his watch again…twenty minutes since he had left Stone in the access corridor.

Two more minutes passed and Hall almost thought Stone might have changed his mind. He was about to go back to the Hummer and turn on the base radio, thinking he might call from "Wildfire" and tell them to come back for him; when it happened. There was a low rumbling sound and peering through the binoculars, Hall could see a concentric wave of dust, barely visible on the horizon. The dust obscured the tarmac and looked like a small sandstorm. A moment later, the ground shook beneath them ever slightly. His eyes were locked on the spot, until he heard something behind him. And he turned to see the strangest sight he had seen in his life…Ruth Leavitt was crying.

They slowly got back in the Humvee and continued driving. Through northern Arizona and into New Mexico for the first day, stopping only to refill the gas tank and eat a quick meal. They spent the night in an empty motel near Santa Fe. That night, Marsha Newberry dreamed. Ruth Leavitt dreamed. And Mark Hall dreamed. And when they awoke, without saying a word about it to each other, they altered their plans…and started driving towards Boulder, Colorado.


End file.
